


Overcast

by Ahmose_Inarus



Series: Helios Rising [6]
Category: Criminal Minds, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-13 23:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11195385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahmose_Inarus/pseuds/Ahmose_Inarus
Summary: After the events in Zenith, the new division of the FBI, the Rapid Emergency Mutant Response Team , is on its way to becoming reality.  But it's going to be off to a rough start when a gang of anti-mutant thugs try to kill this new division before it can even take off.  Everyone would like to think that this will be the worst of it, but things aren't about to get any easier for the new Mutant Unit Chief, Dr. Spencer Reid, Codename Helios.





	1. Chapter 1

Saturday morning dawned cold and bright, and was greeted with excitement by five young men ready to start their new lives… College! And Georgetown, to boot! A new home to live in… they were hoping to just get a townhouse to rent together, provided they found one that was reasonable enough for the government to foot the bill for. But if they didn’t, well… one Tony Stark had hinted that he would be more than happy to fix them up… it would also have to be nice and close to Quantico. Just in case…

Michael Eatros, Noah Jacobs, Adam Corey, Seth Makoa and Caleb Still Water piled out of their hotel room even before one Scott Summers had a chance to knock. The man looked slightly startled, but then smiled.

“Good morning.” He greeted, and the boys chorused various responses. 

Jean Grey-Summers was grinning from where she was standing by Khalifa Ahmed Al Karim and Ororo Munroe; those two would be returning to Quantico that day to get Khalifa started to join the Bureau Academy as soon as possible. And then, deciding to “go big or go home”, it was determined that, anti-mutant protests or not, Kurt would be heading to Georgetown with the others, so that there would be no mistake; They were mutants. And they were not afraid.

And so they headed out to meet for a large group breakfast… They were politely early, and met up with the new Section Chief of the FBI’s new Mutant Division, Lydia Sartorius, who was already there with General Victor Clancy. The breakfast reservation time came… and went…

The others didn’t show up: Aaron Hotchner’s entire BAU team, Section Chief Erin Strauss… and Spencer Reid and the last member of the X-Men who had come to town for the endeavor… Wolverine.

“Logan’s not answering.” Scott said tersely, after trying to call the Wolverine twice.

Frowning, Section Chief Sartorius shook her head. “SSA Hotchner and Section Chief Strauss aren’t answering, either…”

Ororo looked up. “Neither is Agent Morgan.”

“You have Agent Morgan’s phone number?” Scott asked, and Ororo actually blushed a bit. “… Oh. Uh… Are uh… are you two—“

“Scott, now isn’t the time.” Jean cut him off, as Gen. Clancy rose, throwing down his napkin and putting his own phone to his ear. 

“… We have a situation.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Remy LeBeau was fast asleep. He was NOT a morning person… some would blame his eyes… solid black sclera with brilliant, luminous red irises, it was not surprising that his eyes were suited for a more nocturnal existence. But it was more than that… Remy just was personally someone who was more suited to the activities that tended to happen at night… he was thief, and love the night clubs. And so, of course, he preferred the night. 

This in mind, it was hardly surprising that he was far from pleased when there was a banging on his bedroom door. Groaning, he tugged the blankets up over his head and burrowed further into the warm darkness.

“Remy! Git up!!!” Came the familiar voice.

“Rogue! Go ‘way!” Remy howled.

“Remy, Ah’ll break this door down! It’s the news! Hurry!”

… News?

“… Merde.” Remy hissed, hurling himself out of bed and bursting out into the hall. Rogue dodged him and took flight after him as he charged down the stairs and towards the common room in his black sweat pants. The room was full of people, all eyes trained on the television.

“For those who are just joining us,” the anchor was saying, “numerous agents from the FBI have gone missing overnight, following yesterday’s announcement that the proposed Mutant Division of the FBI had been made a reality. The missing agents all played a large part in making this mutant division happen, and one of them we have confirmed, was the newly named Mutant Unit Chief, Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Merde…” Remy breathed, hands gripping the back of the sofa.

“Kelly,” the on site reporter called to the newsroom anchor, and the screen split down the middle. “We HAVE confirmed that the missing agents are all members of the Behavioral Analysis Unit that Dr. Reid is a full time member of. These Agents were not only crucial in the development of the FBI’s new Mutant Team, but they were the agents who managed to convince their Counter-Terrorism Department to re-evaluate the status of the X-Men, who were subsequently declassified as a terrorist organization at the conclusion of the investigations. And actually, if you look behind me, you may actually be able to catch a glimpse of some of the X-Men, working with law enforcement! And—oh… hold on…” He leaned off camera. “This just came to us, Kelly,” The man said, looking quite excited. “It’s believed that a member of the X-Men, who is a friend of Dr. Reid’s, has also gone missing!”

Remy almost choked on his own heart as he stared in the background… Scott… Jean… Ororo… Kurt. Logan was nowhere to be seen. 

No one noticed him slip from the room, his eyes glowing something fierce, and pink sparks erupting from his fingertips.

The residents of the Xavier school watched the news program as it showed clips from the press conference the previous day, highlighting Spencer Reid, before cutting back to a live feed as reporters swarmed Tony Stark, who was getting out of his car, many of them asking if the Avengers would be assisting on the case. He ignored them all, shook them off and moved to join up with the agents, and X-Men, who were working the case…

Then they all heard the roar of the engine and a dark blur shot past the window. Alex Summers brushed back the sheer curtain.

“… Cajun on the loose.” He reported calmly, and then looked to the room. “Someone gonna go after him? Anyone? Anyone? No? Alright then. I’ll call Scott.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“—encer? C’mon, darlin’… open yer eyes…” Reid groaned as the voice intruded upon his sleep. It only made him aware of aches and pains in his body. God, he wanted to keep sleeping… normally, he was fine with his lover being a morning person… normally, he would be up early along with Logan. But today, he was feeling more inclined to follow Remy’s example.

“Reid.”

Wait… was that… Hotch? Damn. He must have fallen asleep on the jet and been mumbling in his sleep again…

“Reid! Wake up!”

He jerked and his head snapped up as he gasped out a startled “Yessir! Sorry! I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off and looked around. “Oh…” He blinked several times. This was definitely not the jet. And no… he hadn’t dreamed Logan’s voice… “What the…?”

They were in what looked like a small warehouse. The only light was filtering in through a filthy skylight, that looked like it should have been broken and destroyed long ago, but miraculously held on. His entire team was there… Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, JJ, Emily and Garcia… And Strauss… Erin Strauss… 

And Logan. 

“What happened?”

“From what we can tell?” Hotch offered. “Some radicals REALLY don’t like that we helped establish a mutant unit in the FBI. Or, a mutant unit that wasn’t made up of humans to destroy mutants…”

“They got you and Logan first.” Garcia explained softly, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “They got Rossi as he got home. Smoke bombed his car and dragged him out as he was pulling into his driveway.”

“I had just hung up with Jessica about picking up Jack in the morning.” Hotch explained. “When they broke in.”

Emily sighed and shook her head, saying “They were waiting for me in my apartment when I got home.”

“I was just stepping outside to go for a run.” Morgan admitted.

“I was just getting out of my car.” JJ grimaced, looking like she had been crying, but looking ready to kill. “There was a man against the wall of the house by the window. I could see Will and Henry inside. Another man said they would throw in a grenade if I didn’t come quietly…” Tears ran down her face again as her eyes flashed murderously…

“I was just heading out to meet you guys for breakfast.” Garcia explained. “A man called my name and walked up to me smiling and then turned me around… another opened the door to a van and… I could see you guys…” Her voice cracked and tears ran down her cheeks. “They put a gun to Emily’s head and said they would…” She swallowed. “If I didn’t…”

“How’d they get you two?” Morgan asked.

Reid frowned. “… Logan went to grab something at the convenience store down the block while I went upstairs. They were waiting in my apartment. I don’t know how they got Logan… God… Logan?!”

“Yeah,” Logan grunted from where he was wrapped up very thoroughly in duct tape.

“Are you alright?”

“Few bumps and bruises. Nothin’ that won’t be gone in seconds one this fuckin’ collar comes off…” Logan grumbled, annoyed.

“You’re collared too?”

“Don’t think they know my powers… don’t think they wanna give me a chance ta let em find out, neither…”

“Chief Strauss?” Spencer called then, to the woman on the end who looked very shaken. She looked up at Reid. “Are you alright?”

Strauss, who looked like she had been on her way to the breakfast that morning when she had been grabbed, was putting much effort into keeping her fear at bay. “I’m fine.” She said, her tone choked. She winced and cleared her throat, squared her shoulders as best she could, bound as she was, then shook her hair back from her face, lifted her chin and drew in a breath, declaring “Well… I think it is safe to say that this is probably related to our recent…”

“Mutant shenanigans?” Emily offered in a sarcastic drawl.

“Yes.” Strauss nodded.

“Welcome ta my life.” Logan grumbled from where he was trussed up on the floor.

“Well… they’ll know something is wrong by now.” JJ reasoned, looking up at the skylight.

“We may have a larger problem.” Rossi frowned, and when they all looked at him, he elaborated. “If this is about the Mutant Unit, as we suspect it is… are we here to be used to negotiate the end of the unit? Or to be made an example of?”

“Both, actually.” Everyone turned at the voice. Several men were filing through a door, all wearing ski masks, all heavily armed.

“Ah.” Rossi nodded, giving them a crooked grin. “The walking, talking arguments for Gun Control.”

The man at the front, who was not armed, and didn’t seem nearly as young and fit as the others, spoke up. “You are merely humans who have been led astray.” He sighed, sounding sad, and angry, both. “You will be our bargaining chips. THEY, on the other hand,” he pointed at Reid and Logan, “will be made examples of. They will die. As every mutant should!”

Everyone was silent…

It was Strauss, surprisingly, who broke the silence with “And what about you, Dan? Kidnapping and false imprisonment of eight Federal Agents… if you go through with it, the murder of one… How can you just… throw your whole life away over this?!”

A very pregnant pause followed that, before the leader of the group stammered, “I… I don’t know WHO you think I am, but—“

“Give it up, Buchannon.” Rossi scoffed.

“We all know who you are.” Hotch added. “We had an idea that you would try something after you stormed out on the project and quit, but…”

“None of us ever guessed you would ever have the balls to do something THIS dumb.” Rossi smirked. 

“Not ta mention I caught a whiff of ya before ya collared me.” Logan growled.

Slowly, the man removed his ski mask and Dan Buchannon, Head of the FBI’s discontinued pseudo Mutant Division, and Would-Be Unit Chief of the new Rapid Emergency Mutant Response Teams, had he not had a fit and quit, glared down at Spencer.

“My life with the Bureau was over the moment they allowed YOU to remain in it! The moment they allowed ANY open mutant to work for the Bureau! My entire career has been dedicated to eradicating the Mutant Threat—“

“Most of which actually originates from your own fuckin’ intolerance,” Logan interrupted.

“—And then they take all of my hard work and shit all over it!!!” Buchannon raged, spittle flying from his lips. Reid’s eyes widened in shock at just how unbalanced this man suddenly was… Did his hatred for mutants really run so deep, that the formation of the REMRT was enough to send him wildly careening off the rails?!

Apparently so. 

Spencer froze when a glock was suddenly pressed to his head. Buchannon glared down the barrel at Reid…

“NO!” Logan roared, and thrashed around.

“Oh, do shut up…” Buchannon sighed, rolling his eyes. He lowered the gun… and pulled the trigger.

The shot was deafening. Logan let out a bellow and Spencer screamed.

“NO! LOGAN! YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! LOGAN!” Spencer cried, staring down at Logan, who was curled up as his blood began to pool on the floor from the fresh wound in his leg. But even bleeding, with his healing power denied him, he was glaring and growling, blue eyes ringed in gold.

“Get set up.” Buchannon declared. “And call the news stations. We’re going live…”

The team had their attentions split between watching their captors through a doorway, setting lights and wires and cameras, and watching Spencer worry himself over Logan, who kept assuring him that he would be fine.

Finally, the activity died down, and Buchannon stood staring at Reid. “Ready?”

“Not really, no.” Reid replied, and Buchannon smirked. A couple of the men with him moved in, while a couple more held guns on the team. A woman pressed Logan to the ground with a shotgun on his chest.

“Try me, mutie.” She snarled.

“Not my type, thanks.” Logan grumbled. She didn’t respond. 

“Dan!” Hotch barked. “Where are you taking him?!”

“Agent Hotchner, I’m just making a statement. I’m not going to hurt him.”

“Yet.” Reid supplied as he was marched across the room.

“Yet.” Buchannon conceded. “But for now, I need you alive. Agents… we’ll be back in a few minutes…”

The door was closed behind Reid and Buchannon, and all was silent. After a bit, they could hear Buchannon speaking, but they couldn’t discern his words. The agents were locked in a staring match with their guards, as was Logan with the woman. Fifteen minutes later, and the door opened and Reid was brought back in, looking furious but unharmed. He was put back in his chair, and without a word, their captors left.

“… Reid?” Morgan called.

“I’m fine.”

“What did they do?” Strauss asked.

“Bullied their way onto national television with their message.”

“And that was?” Rossi asked.

“… Either the REMRT gets converted to a virtual Department of Mutant Genocide immediately… or you all die…”

“He’s insane!” Strauss blurted.

“Apparently,” Rossi drawled.

“They didn’t hurt ya, darlin’?” Logan asked.

“No,” Reid replied, looking down at him. “I’m fine… how are YOU doing?”

“Dontcha worry ‘bout me, Nightlight…” Logan soothed, actually doing a very good job of keeping the pain out of his voice. “I’ll live through this. Now THEM?” He jerked his head towards the men holding them captive. “No promises.” And he gave the agents a toothy grin that was frighteningly less than human…


	2. Chapter 2

A motorcycle pulled into a little gas station and diner, and Remy LeBeau braced his dusty boots on the asphalt and tugged the helmet off of his head, immediately sliding his sunglasses into place. He dismounted the machine with practiced ease, toeing down the kickstand and resting the helmet on the seat, pocketing the keys and striding towards the doors of the little building; his throat was dry, his stomach was grumbling, and he was out of gas and cigarettes. Refills needed all around… He stepped inside to the sound of a little bell ringing, and glanced about. The low hum of conversation came from the diner to his left, and from the refrigeration units in the attached convenience store to his right.

“Hey honey. Can I get you seat?” Asked a middle aged women in a stained yellow dress and starched apron.

“Non, merci… jus’ stoppin’ in.” Remy nodded, smirking as her eyes lit up at the accent and moved down his form. He turned and headed into the convenience store, opening a cooler and grabbing a bottle of water and then a cold beer. Tucking them under his arm, he nabbed some Slim Jims, spicy potato chips and a rice crispie treat and then four packs of cards before he headed to the counter, glancing up at the overhead rack of cigarettes. “Take two o’ de ones on de end. Non, t’ de left.” He mumbled. “Also need fi’teen on pump seven.”

The man behind the counter just grunted and started to ring up the items and bag them, not missing a beat when Remy added a cheap little lighter at the last moment. Remy’s receipt was printing when there was a shout from the diner. “Hey John! C’mere! Sounds like someone is stickin’ it to those damn mutant-loving Feds!!!”

Remy froze and his blood ran cold, and he turned. The man behind the counter eyed him as he handed him his bag of purchases, then said “well, let’s take a look,” and stepped out from behind the counter and headed for the diner. Remy was four steps ahead of him, bag dangling from his wrist and already unwrapping one pack of cards. They stepped into the diner, nearly getting bowled over by the stench of food fried in oil that had gone rancid long ago, and looked up at the televisions that were over the small counter/bar area. The woman in the yellow dress was on a chair, reaching up to turn up the volume.

“—illustrating their demands in return for the release of the Federal Agents. Let’s take a look.” The anchor was saying, and then the screen switched to an image of a concrete wall with an American flag over it. Four men with guns stood before it, around a slender figure bound to a chair, with duct tape over his mouth.

“… Spencer.” Remy blurted involuntarily, eyes going wide. A couple of the patrons glanced at him, suspiciously, but turned their attentions back to the television. Remy thought he was going to be sick.

“Good morning, America.” Spoke the man directly to Spencer’s right. “We are patriots, normal men, civilians, armed and ready and prepared to go to war against the biggest threat against not only our great nation, but our entire species: Mutants! When the news came that a mutant team had been developed in the FBI, we were just as alarmed as all of you, out there. But we decided to step up, and do something about it! Because we are true patriots!”

Spencer rolled his eyes dramatically and shook his head; he was smacked upside the back of his head, making him wince, and scowl, then freeze as the speaker pressed a gun to his head. Remy felt his heart drop.

“This filthy creature, is the greatest threat to not only National Security, but to the survival of the human race; a mutant who managed to make his way into the FBI. This is Dr. Spencer Reid, the new Unit Chief of the FBI’s Alpha Mutant Team. And he is going to die. That is not up for negotiation.” He lowered the gun. “What IS, are the human agents he has brainwashed! These are normal people, like you and me, who fell victim to the manipulation of a mutant, who slowly and steadily gained their trust and support over the course of many years. THEY can be saved.

“Agents Hotchner, Jareau, Rossi, Strauss, Morgan, Garcia and Prentiss will be released when our demands are met, IF they are met in a timely manner. You have a deadline of 24 hours. At noon tomorrow, one of them will die if our demands have not been met. And so on and so forth, another shall die every 24 hours after that, if we are continually forced to wait. 

“Our demands are as follows: The X-Men are to be re-classified as a terrorist organization and their apprehension is to be of the utmost importance. All mutants currently within the FBI and all other branches of government are to be rooted out, placed under arrest and incarcerated immediately. The Mutant Division of the FBI will be reorganized into a properly trained and equipped team of normal human beings with the purpose of identifying, apprehending and exterminating any and all mutants within the jurisdiction of the United States Federal Government, with the mandatory full cooperation of law enforcement at the state, city and county levels.

“These are our terms. You have twenty four hours to comply.”

The feed ended.

The diner immediately was filled with a buzz of people talking excitedly, but Remy heard nothing over the pounding of blood in his ears. 

Spencer. They were going to KILL Spencer. But they hadn’t done it on the video… so what kind of deadline were they looking at?! They had said that they would kill someone on Spencer’s team in 24 hours, but nothing about Spencer. And what about Logan?! He was also missing! They had said nothing of him… what if he was… what if they had already…

‘Non’, he told himself. ‘Can’t jus’ kill Wolvie. Not wit’ dat healin’ factor…’

‘Ah,’ said another voice in his mind, a darker one… ‘But Spencer was wearing a collar to dampen his powers… odds are, if they have him, Logan is wearing one too. If they block his mutant power, he can’t heal… he CAN die…’

“… Fils de putain…” Remy spat under his breath, shaking his head slightly.

“Hey buddy…” The voice broke through to get his attention. “You alright?” Remy blinked, startled, and looked up. Everyone was staring at him. His heart began to thump a warning in his chest, and he felt his adrenaline already beginning to flow. He straightened up, and then the tense lines in his figure melted away, displaying someone who appeared to be completely relaxed and at ease… A sleeping viper…

“… Been bette’.” Remy drawled.

“You don’t look happy.” The man named John observed, shifting and narrowing his eyes. “Those fellas are heroes.”

“Dat be a matter of opinion. Look t’ me like dey be kidnappers an’ murderers.” Remy said, a tone in his voice that would have anyone who knew him putting up their guard.

“… You ain’t a mutie-lover… are ya?” John asked then.

“Guess I jus’ believe in dat whole ‘wit’ liberty an’ justice fo’ all’ an’ de ‘all men are created equal’ stuff, mon ami.”

“They ain’t men! They’re freaks!”

“If dey be born to men, den dey BE men.” Remy said, a tone of finality in his voice. “Au revoir.” And he turned sharply and strode out of the diner. But even as he crossed the parking lot, he was palming some cards, feeling the roiling emotions that he had left behind in that diner. And sure enough, he heard the door open, and several feet coming out. And then, he heard the loud chick-CLACK! 

Remy froze, recognizing all too well the sound of a shell being pumped into the chamber of a shotgun. He sighed and tilted his head back slightly, reaching out and hanging the handles of the plastic sack on the handlebar of his Harley. 

“Hands where we can see ‘em, pal…” He heard John growl, and slowly, Remy obeyed, spreading his arms out to his sides.

“Ain’t lookin’ fo’ trouble, monsieur.”

“… You’re a stinkin’ mutie, ain’tcha?”

Remy sighed. There was no way this was going to end peacefully… but he sure as hell wasn’t going to get shot. Not when his mates needed him… He lowered his shields a bit and reached out with his Charm.

“Mutant o’ not… Came here in peace, mes amis…” He soothed, slowly turning to face them. “Ain’t got no ill will towards none o’ you… don’t wanna hurt no one… don’t wanna damage no property. Jus’ wanna gas up de bike an’ be on m’ way.”

“Don’t think so. Dottie’s inside callin’ the sheriff.”

“Fo’ what?!” Remy laughed. “What I done wrong?!”

For a moment, John was silent, the men with him fidgeted.

“… Take off the glasses.”

Remy cursed inwardly. Yeah… this wasn’t going to end well.

“May I ask why?”

“Take. Them. Off.”

Remy heaved a sigh and dipped his head in a nod, and slowly moved a hand in, drawing off his sunglasses. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, and then blinked them open, wincing a bit at the bright sunlight.

“Good God…”

“See?!? I told you!!!” One man towards the back hissed, nearly bouncing up and down as he shook his friend by the shoulder.

“… You ARE a fuckin’ mutant.” John growled, hands tightening on his gun.

“Oui.” Remy stated softly. “Jus’ a mutant dat wants t’ be on ‘is way in peace.”

“Yeah right. Go on… try usin’ your freak powers on us. We ain’t afraid of you.”

“Monssieur.” Remy stated, his voice flat. “I don’t WANT y’ t’ be afraid o’ me. An’ I ain’t makin’ de firs’ move, neither. If dere gon’ be a fight, fine. But de firs’ move be yours. Ain’t startin’ a fight dat I don’t want, me.” And then his eyes flashed as he narrowed them and glared. “But y’ insist on a fight, dis Cajun sure as hell gon’ finish it…”

For a moment, it was completely silent. A couple of the men shifted, nervously. The wind blew by…

“Jus’ like de ol’ showdowns in de Western flicks, non?” Remy asked, giving them a roguish grin. “Need t’ get me some spurs.”

And then the first move was made. One man lunged, swinging a tire iron. Remy whirled, his duster swirling behind him as he thrust one hand into the air, his bo snapping out and blocking the blow, while his other hand gripped the barrel of the shot gun and pushed up, just as the sharp boom assaulted their ears as it was fired. Buckshot scattered into the air and the smell of gunpowder teased their senses. John yelped when he found his hands empty, and saw his shotgun spinning through the air across the parking lot and land with a clatter on the entry drive to the interstate. Then a boot slammed into his broad chest and he crashed back to the asphalt with a loud “WHOOOF!”, the air thoroughly knocked out of him.

When he managed to roll over, groaning, he froze. A dusty black boot was a few inches from his nose, and then with a soft creak of leather and denim, he was staring up into those blazing black and red eyes as the mutant squatted down before him, auburn hair falling into his face. He looked completely calm and at ease, and from the groans that John heard, he could only conclude that he and his buddies had just had their asses handed to them.

“An’ dat was wit’out m’mutant power, oui?” The Cajun smirked, then winked at him.

Then there was loud screams and shouts… Dottie was wailing in the doorway to the diner on an old corded phone, howling “Oh God, he’s gonna kill Johnny!!!”

Remy chuckled to himself and cocked his head.

“Johnny… mind if I call y’ Johnny?” He asked, and then without waiting for an answer, he said “I ain’t gon’ deny dat some mutants out dere be dangerous. Some o’ dem truly are de monsters dat y’all t’ink I am. But we ain’t all like dat. Most of us jus’ wanna live. Go t’ school, get a job, have a relationship, a family… De same t’ing any man want… de American Dream, oui? An’ some of us… be wantin’ t’ use de gifts we been given t’ help dis world… like dat FBI Agent… You tried t’ kill me. But I swear dis… If you eve’ be threatened by a mutant who be makin’ de wrong choices, I would protect you. Wit’ m’ life.” And he grabbed John’s hand and tugged him to his feet. 

John just stared, and his buddies, some still lying on the ground, and some getting up, gawked at Remy.

“Called Gambit, me. An’ now, iff’n y’ don’t mind, dis Cajun jus’ gon’ get ‘is gas an’ head on down t’ DC t’ help de rest o’ de X-Men get m’ friends back from de fuckers on TV.”

“… X-Men?!” John gasped, staggering back.

“Mais oui!” Remy announced calmly, opening the gas cap on his bike, and grinning over his shoulder as he began to fill her up. “Be a card carryin’ member! Well… would be… iff’n we had cards…” And he looked thoughtful for a moment, and then just shrugged, ripping open a Slim Jim. “Y’all go back t’ yo’ lunch. I jus’ gon’ be on m’ way.” And he bit off the end of the Slim Jim and just smiled at them, chewing. 

The men began to shuffle back to the diner, glancing back nervously. Remy waved. “Y’all have a good day!” And he put back the gas nozzle, closed the tank and mounted his bike, tugging on his helmet, revving the engine and pulling out onto the interstate, passing the shotgun as he went…

That had taken up too much time… 

He gunned it.

But that little interlude wasn’t for nothing, now that he thought about it. That was the first fight (and he used that term loosely) that he had been in since he was kidnapped and tortured as couple of months back… While he hardly exerted himself, his body had felt good… moving like that had felt good.

Remy LeBeau felt a satisfied smirk tugging his lips.

Gambit was back in action…

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“He’s still not answering.” Spat Scott Summers, pacing back and forth in the hotel room, watched by Kurt Wagner, Ororo Munroe and his wife, Jean Grey-Summers… The three were sitting on the sofa. By the window, sitting on the floor, were five young men, also watching him pace.

Michael Eatros, Noah Jacobs, Adam Cory, Seth Makoa and Caleb Still Water were supposed to be at Georgetown, completing everything needed for their admission to the University… but that was before nine people went missing that morning.

After Logan and BAU had been declared missing, and the victims of foul play, it had gone on the news. Not long after, Scott had received a phone call from his brother, Alex, back at the Xavier School. The message Alex had passed along had Scott fuming…

Remy LeBeau was on his way to DC. Scott had called him to tell him to get his ass back to the house. No answer. He had called again. And again and again… Ororo had called, Jean had called… Remy didn’t answer any of them, and they all knew, it was because he knew what they would tell him.

“But seriously…” Noah had pointed out with a grin. “Even if he DID answer, do you really think he would listen?”

Scott leveled him with a look that shut him up real quick, though he and his friends sniggered behind the man’s back; Noah was right and they all knew it.

“He’s here.” Jean said, suddenly.

“What?!” Scott blurted.

“Are you really that surprised?” Jean asked, a smile touching her lips.

“How did he find us?!” Scott demanded of no one in particular.

“Do you really want to know?” Came the amused inquiry from the direction of the boys on the floor. Scott glared, and they all just grinned.

Then came the knock on the door. Swearing under his breath, Scott moved to answer it, jerking it open almost violently.

“Bonjour, Scotty.”

“Get your ass in here.” Scott growled back, stepping aside and allowing the cocky Cajun to saunter into the room, arrogant smirk on his lips. He smiled and nodded to the X-Men on the sofa, and then all out grinned at the delighted eighteen-to-nineteen year olds on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Scott snapped and Remy turned, his smirk changing and becoming something… cold and dangerous.

“Guess dis t’ief needed t’ hear it from YOU.” He stated.

“Hear what.” Scott demanded.

“… How y’ managed t’ lose Logan an’ Spencer…” Remy growled back, turning to face Scott head on. “MY Logan an’ Spencer.”

Scott gave pause here, trepidation creeping in as he reminded himself… shit… for a moment, in his anger, he had forgotten that these were Remy’s PARTNERS they were talking about… his boyfriends, his significant others, his mates… They were REMY’S… and they were in danger. And then Scott drooped as the guilt and responsibility crashed in. They had been taken. On HIS watch…

“… Remy… I’m sorry.”

“Damn right y’ sorry. Not y’ fault dis happened, but don’t y’ fuckin’ presume dat YOU can tell ME t’ stay home, sit ‘dis out an’ let y’ handle it.”

Scott grimaced. “Actually… that’s exactly what I have to tell you.”

The silence in the room was deafening. 

“… Excusez-moi?” came the dangerous hiss.

“We’re working with the FBI on this, Gambit…” Scott admitted, softly.

“Je sais… y’ point?”

“…” Scott looked like he was struggling to put together the words, so when his phone rang, he jumped to answer it.

Jean was the one who stepped up, moving over and putting a hand on Remy’s shoulder. “You’re emotionally involved… you’re not ALLOWED to be let in on this case… I’m sorry, Remy.”

Scott put his phone back into his pocket. “They’ve called us in. To go over some things.” He said softly.

“Dey foun’ somet’in?” Remy asked.

“… Not yet. They’re working on it. They’ve requested our help.” Scott admitted. Ororo and Kurt rose.

“I’m comin’.” Remy tried.

“No.” Scott said. “You’re not. I’m sorry… Stay with the boys. That’s an… order.”

Normally, Remy would have fought back… Scott ORDERING him to do something almost always meant immediately defiance. But Remy couldn’t… Scott didn’t sound mad… he didn’t sound frustrated… he sounded regretful. And Remy just couldn’t. Silently, helplessly, he watched his fellow X-Men walk out of the room, and close the door.

But in the next few moments, his stomach churned and his blood boiled. 

“Gambit?” Came the soft inquiry behind him. He turned, and looked back and the five boys that had been students at the Xavier school for the past few years, a couple of them for nearly a decade. His eyes widened behind his sun glasses, and then he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin and announced “Suit up.”

“… What?” Adam asked, eyes going wide. “But… Mr. Summers said stay here!”

“Non, he said ‘stay wit’ de boys’. Neve’said you boys had ta stay here… neve’ said you boys weren’t allowed t’ go find ‘em. So we gon’ find ‘em ourselves.”

“WHAT?!” All five of them cried.

“Y’ ain’t taken y’ oaths yet, y’ be civilians.” Remy stated, and then smiled and shook his head, correcting himself. “Non… y’ be X-Men. Dey can work de government angles an’ resources… an’ WE gon’ work MINE. Now suit up, an’ let’s move.” And then, with a grin, “Dat’s an order.”

And half an hour later, Noah was driving one of the two black SUV’s they had brought down to DC out of the hotel’s parking garage, following Gambit on his motorcycle.

“This is a bad idea…” He groaned, glancing to Michael on his right, riding shotgun.

“This is awesome.” Michael just grinned back.

“… Turn it up. I like this one.” Caleb murmured softly from the back seat, and Noah reached out and turned up the radio, blasting Disturbed’s cover of Genesis’ “Land of Confusion” out the windows…


	3. Chapter 3

Heads turned when the X-Men walked into the J. Edgar Hoover building in DC… Everyone stared.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” spoke out Nancy Halloway, Assistant Director of the FBI. She strode across the lobby to meet them, gripping Cyclops’ hand. “We may have some information. Right this way, please.” And she turned and quickly moved further into the building, Cyclops, Storm, Phoenix and Nightcrawler following after her. She brought them to a secure conference room where they were met by Krueger Spence of the CIA, SSA’s Delgado and Sartorius of the new FBI Mutant Unit, Bart Devanny and Jordan Todd of Counter-Terrorism, and Gen. Victor Clancy.

“What did you find?” Cyclops asked without preamble.

“We know who one of the kidnappers are.” Halloway responded.

“It’s Dan Buchannon.” Gen. Clancy announced. “I’m sure of it. He was the speaker. I recognized his voice.

“So did we.” SSA Jordan Todd nodded, gesturing to herself and Bart Devanny, and Krueger Spence was nodding.

“… The former head of the FBI’s Mutant Department?” Cyclops asked, and the nodded. “… The one who threw a tantrum and quit?”

SSA Victoria Delgado had to smother a snicker as Halloway sighed, “That would be the one…”

“That’s not all.” Gen. Clancy said, his tone grim, and Agent Spence spoke up.

“Buchannon managed to get into communication with Dale Ward in the prison systems.”

“… Dale Ward?” Phoenix questioned, brow furrowing.

“The ring leader of the gang that abducted your friend in Boston.” Gen. Clancy clarified.

“HOW?!” Cyclops demanded to know as the same time that Storm cried “Why?!”

“We suspect,” Spence answered, “that he pulled some strings and Dale passed him information on other people like him, that Buchannon could go to… men who would help him pull this off…”

“But have you made any progress in FINDING them?” Phoenix asked.

Gen. Clancy shook his head. “… No.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“… Logan?”

Logan tried to ignore the call. “… Logan?!” It came again, this one much more insistent. Uhg… if he ignored it, it would only make things worse…

“What.”

“… How are you feeling?” Spencer asked.

“Lie I’ve got a fuckin hole in my gut. Tryin’ ta ignore it, but it’s hard when ya keep askin’ about it!” He snapped.

“… ‘m sorry…” came the little whimper. 

Logan rolled to the side a bit with a sigh. “Sorry kid, I ain’t mad. Jus’ tryin’ ta ignore the pain an’ get some sleep.”

“When you sleep, I get worried…” Spencer admitted.

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere, pup.”

“Not intentionally…” Spencer pointed out, bitterly.

“Hey… I ain’t goin’ nowhere unwillin’ly, neither.”

“Seriously, though… how do you feel?” Spencer asked.

“… Tired.” Logan admitted. “Thirsty. Heavy. And really fuckin’ pissed.”

Spencer managed to smile a bit at that. “Well, that’s a good sign, I suppose. I’ll worry when you’re not pissed.”

Logan grinned and chuckled a bit, but cut it off with a slight hiss, and then asking “How’re ya holdin’ in there, darlin’?”

“… A bathroom trip would be appreciated.” Reid admitted, making Logan chuckle again when Emily, Rossi and Morgan spoke up with “yes please”, “hear, hear” and “Oh my God, no kidding” respectively. JJ dropped her head back with a groan, Garcia whimpered, and even Hotch and Strauss squirmed a bit, confirming that it was a problem that everyone was currently sharing.

Morgan, apparently, had had enough…

“Hey.” He called. “HEY!” He glared at the door that their captors had disappeared through. “Hey! Come on, man!!!!”

The door slammed open and a masked man barked “WHAT?!”

“Nature calls!” Morgan said firmly. The man stared, then closed the door. “HEY!!!” Morgan howled. But a moment later, it opened and several men emerged, several carrying automatic weapons.

“One at a time.” Said the one woman of the group. “Anyone tries anything, they won’t be the only one to get a bullet… got it?!” The Agents just glared, silently. “Good,” she nodded, and one by one, the team was escorted to and from the bathroom, the women going first.

Finally, only the mutants were left… Reid and Logan stared at their captors… Their captors stared back.

“… I gotta go Number Two.” Logan announced, giving them a toothy grin that looked more predatory than anything…

“… THAT one can go on himself for all I care…” One man snorted.

“Fine.” Logan responded. “An’ the whole time I’m lyin’ in it, I’ll be thinkin’ about the poor schmuck that gets ta clean it up later.”

Sounds of disgust went through their captors.

“Please.” Spencer spoke then. “Let me at least… clean and dress his wound.”

“Hell no, that’ll hurt!” Logan complained. Spencer let out a frustrated sigh, giving him a look. Logan returned it with a stubborn glare.

“… We’ll think about it.” The woman said. “Let’s go.” And Spencer was released from his chair and dragged out, Logan growling at the rough treatment of his mate. When they brought him back, he refused to sit in the chair again. 

“Please… let me help him.”

“Sit.” He was commanded.

“I don’t even know if he can get up and walk to the bathroom… please.”

“SIT.” 

“… No. Shoot me if you have to.” Spencer snapped, then turned and knelt by Logan, trying to peel his shirt away from the wound.

“Fuck! That HURTS, brat!”

“Oh, grow up.” Spencer murmured, studying the wound and ignoring the woman yelling at him to get away from Logan.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Buchannon demanded as he burst into the room. “Who let him loose?!”

“They had to use the bathroom, sir.” The woman reported, stepping aside.

“He doesn’t look like he’s using the bathroom to me!”

“Well… we just brought him back and he’s not cooperating…” The woman mumbled.

“He needs help to get there and back!” Reid snapped, turning and glaring at Buchannon over his shoulder. “Come on, Logan… can you get up?” He asked then, getting the duct tape from Logan’s ankles.

Logan winced but nodded, and Spencer helped him sit up and get his legs under himself.

“You can help him, then.” Buchannon snapped. “THAT one doesn’t get untied.” And he glared pointedly at the duct tape holding Logan’s wrists behind his back.

“Fine.” Spencer nodded, slapping a hand over Logan’s opening mouth as the man prepared to argue… or just curse Buchannon out. “Come on…” And he guided Logan out of the room. They made their way down a narrow hallway, and through a door to an old, grimy restroom that hadn’t seen any maintenance in possibly a decade. Spencer closed the door and helped Logan over to the toilet.

“Do you really have to go—“

“I’ll wait.”

“… No, I need you to do whatever you need to do.” Spencer told him, working on his mate’s belt buckle, then bowing his head and kissing him gently on the lips. Logan didn’t argue, just closing his eyes and savoring the kiss, letting out a sigh when it ended, and Spencer got his jeans unbuttoned, and slid the zipper down. 

“My only goal…” Spencer murmured, “is to get us out alive, okay? Let me take care of you…” He couldn’t help his lips quirking up a bit at the disgruntled scowl and grumble from his feral mate; HE was the Alpha Male, it was HIS job to take care of SPENCER!!!

But in the end, he gave in and let Spencer help him use the bathroom, and clean up after. And then Spencer washed his hands thoroughly and knelt before Logan with some wet paper towels to try and clean up his wound and get a better look. Of course, only a couple of minutes into it, and there was a pounding on the door with the nasty snap that their time was up. Spencer frowned and didn’t respond.

“… Uh, babe?” Logan prodded.

“They can kiss my ass.” Spencer mumbled, almost as if to himself. 

A moment later and the door was opened, and several men peeked in, guns ready.

“I said, time’s up.” Buchannon barked.

“Takes more than five minutes to take care of this.” Spencer murmured absently.

“No one said you could clean him up.” Buchannon snarled, and Spencer turned and glared at him.

“If you don’t want me cleaning up your messes, then stop making them.” And then he turned back to Logan’s wound. “This will go faster if you bring me a first aid kit.”

“No!”

“Then you can sit there and wait while I MacGyver this.” Reid snapped back. Buchannon ground his teeth, his face ruddy in his anger, but he turned and snapped to someone out of sight, “get some fuckin first aid things.” And then the bathroom door was closed again. Spencer looked pleased, and Logan considered him, thoughtfully.

“… Kinda hot.”

“Excuse me?” Spencer asked, blinking up at him.

“I know ya got balls, but ya don’t always let em’ hang out…” Logan chuckled, looking at his mate with something akin to pride. “… Think I might like it when ya do.”

Spencer blinked and then beamed, his face splitting into a wide grin, his eyes sparkling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“… Is this… legal?” Came the mumbled question from the back seat. 

Noah glanced back at Adam in the rearview mirror of the SUV and shook his head, snorting and shrugging a shoulder as he answered “Hell if I know… is WHAT legal?”

“I dunno… what we’re doing?” Adam offered.

“… What ARE we doing, exactly?” Seth asked, peeking around the headrest of the driver’s seat to look out the windshield.

Michael sighed and waved a hand in a forwards direction. “Watching Gambit having a conversation with a less than reputable looking hooker?” He offered.

Immature giggles filled the car, ending when Noah’s cell phone on the dashboard buzzed. Michael reached out and caught it as the vibrations threatened to carry it off of the edge to fall to the floor boards. “Shit. It’s Cyke.” He hissed.

“Don’t answer, brah!” Seth gasped as Adam scrambled to turn his phone off so that he could honestly say he never got the call until later. Michael rejected the call and it went to voicemail. Noah glared.

“What?!” Michael asked, “did you want me to answer?!”

“You should have let it go to voicemail naturally, Michael!” Noah howled. “But now he knows he was purposely sent to voicemail!” The phone buzzed again, and Michael once again rejected the call. “MICHAEL!!!”

“What?! Damage is already done!” Michael laughed, then jumped and pulled out his own phone. And then sat and let it ring and go to voicemail.

“I hate you.” Noah hissed, as Caleb yelped and waved his phone exclaiming “It’s Storm!”

“Don’t answer!” Seth cried, now hurrying to try and turn his phone off, but wasn’t fast enough… “Phoenix! Shit!”

“Just don’t answer!” Michael laughed at his panicking companions. Then, a door was jerked open.

“What de hell y’all doin’?!” Remy demanded.

“YOU ANSWER IT!” Seth yelped, shoving the phone into Remy’s hand. Remy glanced at it, and then rejected Jean’s call.

“Cyke’s calling me again.” Michael stated calmly.

“Ignore dem.” Remy commanded, and the boys slowly pocketed their phones, ignoring the ringing and buzzing. “Follow me.” And he closed the door, mounted his motorcycle and took off, Noah putting the car into drive and following. They drove for nearly forty five minutes, out to an old neighborhood… half of the houses were in shambles, some of them condemned… the other half had been restored in a mass house flipping trend that the neighborhood was in. Remy led them to a house on a gated property, keying in a code and leading them inside the walls. The house was old and the paint was peeling, but it appeared to have been maintained better than many of the other houses. 

Remy dismounted and waved, and the boys piled out of the car and followed. Remy knocked a sequence on the door, and the old-time window hole on the door, about the size and shape of a pear, opened. Remy just stared at the eyes on the other side, watching them widen in surprise, and then the window was snapped shut, and several locks were heard turning before the door opened and Remy was bowed inside. The boys followed, looking nervous, and curious.

A middle aged woman approached. “… Guildmaster.” She greeted, nodding to Remy, who nodded back.

“… Guildmaster?!” Adam echoed, then snapped his mouth shut when several faces appeared in the gloom of the old house, staring at him. But Remy just turned, a smirk on his lips, pointed at the boys and said “Y’all gon’ keep dat t’ yo’selves, oui?”

“… Yessir.” Noah nodded, eyes wide.

“Keep what? I didn’t hear anything.” Michael mused, and Remy chuckled.

“Bien…” And he turned back to the woman.

“My office is this way.” She said, and Remy nodded and followed her, a hand gesture telling the boys not to follow. So they stood awkwardly in the front hall. For nearly twenty minutes, they stood, most of them trying to hide behind their phones and ignore the silent figures watching them. But then, finally, Remy emerged with the woman.

“Spirit Walker.” Remy called. “Dis way.” 

Caleb blinked his liquid silver eyes, and followed. After a moment’s hesitation, the other boys scrambled after them. When some of the dark figures moved to intercept, Remy raised a hand and they desisted, allowing the boys to pass. They followed Remy down into the basement, and into a room where a large computer network had been set up. The woman looked at Caleb, then at Remy.

“We have our own techs.” She said stiffly, and two men at the computers turned and looked back at them.

“Not like dis one, y’ don’t.” Remy smirked, laying a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. 

The woman frowned, but handed Caleb a USB drive. Caleb glanced down at it, his eyes faded for a moment, and then he looked up. “A code?” She looked surprised.

“Run it.” Remy said. “An’ track down de signal from de connards dat got Helios an’ Wolverine…”

“Yessir.” Caleb nodded, walking over to the computers. Looking irritated, the two techs moved aside, eyeing the boy as he plugged in the drive.

“Whatever you need done Guildmaster…” One of them said, “we can do it in—“

“Uh, Brent…?” The other interrupted, and Brent turned. His tech partner was staring, eyes wide. Brent followed his gaze, and froze. 

“… Whoa.”

“Like Remy say… sure y’ be good… but y’ ain’t like SpiritWalker. He be IN de code now.”

And they watched as Caleb sat before the computers, eyes glazed, as programs were run, codes were followed, systems were hacked and security was bypassed.

“… Y’ movin’ faster…” Remy observed, moving closer to watch.

“I practice.” Caleb mumbled, his voice also coming from the computer speakers, shocking the techs. “And Miss Garcia gave me a few tips and tricks.” Remy blinked, then chuckled.

“I jus’ bet she did, mec… I jus’ bet dat woman did…”

A few minutes later, and a computer started beeping. “Found the signal. Locked on.” Caleb announced. “… It’s not connected.” He blinked and turned to look at Remy. “They’re not connected to the net right now. Until they do connect…” He shrugged.

“… So… ‘til dey start broadcastin’ again… we can’t find ‘em?”

“Afraid so.” Caleb nodded, and Remy sighed. 

“Den we wait…”


	4. Chapter 4

Darkness had fallen. Water had been given to the members of the BAU, and Section Chief Strauss. It had not been given to Spencer, or Logan. The same happened with food. They were left in peace, though still tightly bound in place. Logan seemed to be doing a better in general, since Spencer had been able to dress his wounds. And by “doing better in general”, he was more growly and cantankerous than before. Thus, Spencer concluded that he was doing better.

All eyes turned up when the door opened, and Buchannon entered with his armed thugs, and Spencer was dragged to his feet.

“What’s going on?!” Hotch demanded, struggling against his bonds.

“It’s been twelve hours, Agent.” Buchannon said. “We’ve seen no sign of our demands being met.”

“That’s because they won’t be.” Spencer snorted, and then grumbled when he was gagged with duct tape again. 

“Bring the other one.” Buchannon ordered, and Logan snarled and bared his teeth as he was dragged to his feet and they were taken out of the room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cyclops, Pheonix, Storm and Nightcrawler looked up when Joran Todd burst into the room.

“Buchannon is demanding live feed again.” She told them. “They were denied, so they’re streaming on FaceBook Live.”

“Shit…” Cyclops hissed, and they hurried to watch. 

As they did, in a basement in a residential area outside of DC, all eyes turned when Caleb Still Water announced, “They’re connecting with a Live Stream on FaceBook.” Remy moved closer, heart in his throat, as the feed appeared on one of the screens. And then he cursed. The original men were there… so was Spencer, in the chair with duct tape over his mouth… but this time…

“… fils de putain… Logan…” Remy growled.

Logan was on his knees on the floor next to Spencer, and the side of his shirt and pants were stained with blood… in fact, he looked rather pale. Remy had to bite back another curse when he realized that Logan was wearing an inhibitor collar, and was wounded.

Then, the spokesman was speaking, “It has been twelve hours since we first delivered our message. We have heard nothing in response! This is NOT acceptable! You have twelve more hours to comply before one of the agents dies! But just to make sure you know we’re serious…” The man stepped back and one of the armed thugs stepped forward and raised his pistol, pointed it at the back Logan’s head and—

Remy never heard the shots… he was already letting out an enraged scream, and didn’t even notice when the boys all dove for cover as the chair Remy was gripping exploded under his touch…

In DC, Phoenix let out a horrified cry as they watched Logan pitch forward in a shower of blood… and in the same moment, one of the other armed thugs let out a howl, stumbling and gripping his arm, which was suddenly bleeding. 

Spencer was struggling against his bonds, wide eyes fixed on Logan, who was not in view of the camera now. The camera, in the mean time, shook horribly, and then toppled over as shouting could be heard.

“Shit! SHIT!!!”

“What the fuck just happened?!”

“I’ve been SHOT, man!”

“What the hell is… is that METAL?!?! His fuckin’ HEAD is made of METAL!!! What the fuck?!”

“Get away from him you bastards!!! Logan?!”

“Shut up! Get him out of here!” 

Several more shots were heard, Spencer was screaming—

And the camera feed was cut, and the screen went dark.

Cyclops sucked in a deep breath, held it a moment, and then let it out, bracing his hands on his hips. Storm was glaring at the wall, and thunder rumbled outside, and Kurt had clasped his hands and bowed his head, praying silently, trying to ease his own fear of what may have just happened to their friend.

Jean turned and walked out, mumbling that she needed some air.

And across town, members of the Thieves’ Guild watched as Remy LeBeau paced, his entire body tense and nearly vibrating in his fury.

“… fils de putain! Gon’ KILL ‘EM!!!” He raged.

“Gambit.” Caleb said, and Remy snapped “WHAT?!”

“… I think I found them.”

“… WHAT?!” Remy blurted, hurrying over. He watched the screen as a map came up, and began to zoom in.

“I think I’ve found the source of the feed.” Caleb stated calmly.

“… How’d y’ do dat?!” Remy gasped.

“With a trick Miss Garcia showed me. I’m sure she was running it, but I can do it faster with my powers than she can with her keyboard. And I barely got it.”

“… Magnifique…” Remy breathed as he stared at the pulsing red dot on the screen, marking the spot. “Spirit Walker, dis Cajun owey’ big time… Suit up, mes amis. We move NOW.”

“YES!” Michael blurted and bolted for the stairs. Remy chuckled, thanking the head of the Safe House profusely, and then taking his leave with the five boys.

As they headed out to the car, he got a text.

“Caleb… how far?” He asked.

“… they’re about two hundred miles away.”

 

“Den we gon’ fly.” Remy announced.

 

“Fly?” Noah asked. “How?”

Remy grinned and held up his phone, showing them the text from Rogue: ‘ Cyc has called in back up. We’ll be there ASAP’.

“We gon’ steal dey ride. Caleb… find out where dey gon’ land…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The arrival of the BlackBird at a Helipad in DC did not go unnoticed. It had come in and met up with an escort of helicopters from the Air Force, and was met by armored vehicles. Rogue, Shadowcat, Colossus, Beast, Psylocke and White Queen all disembarked. While Rogue stayed to guard the Bird, the others packed into armored SUV’s, and were whisked off to meet up with their companions already in DC.

Only forty five minutes later, and one Remy LeBeau had boarded the aircraft, accompanied by TigersEye. “Alrigh’ Spirit Walker.” He murmured into his comm. “Let’s fly!”

Outside, Rogue blurted out a “What’n tarnation--?!?!”when the ramp suddenly closed and the engines roared to life. And then, she was SLAMMED by gravity.

“Sorry Miss Rogue!” Came the frantic cry, and she groaned at the effort to raise her head and see Noah and Adam flying overhead as the BlackBird started to move.

“Like hell! Let me go! Cyke toldja ta stay at the hotel!!!”

“Actually,” Seth called as he hitched a ride with Adam, while Noah carried Caleb, “He told us to stay with Gambit!”

“WHAT?! REMY!!!” The woman roared, fighting to get to her feet even as Noah used his powers to lift the BlackBird into the air, as the army had figured out something was amiss, and had already moved to blockade the runway. 

Rogue could only watch as the boys boarded the craft in mid air, and with a thundering roar, the jet shot off and into the clouds.

“DAMMIT!” She blurted, taking flight now that she was free of Noah’s powers. Already, she was pulling out her phone.

“… Cyclops! Remy an’ the boys stole the jet!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*

Cyclops pinched the bridge of his nose as he pocketed his phone.

“… Gambit again?” The White Queen asked, a knowing look of irritation on her face.

Cyclops sighed and looked up. “He stole the jet. And he has the boys with him.”

“Well… you told him to stay with the boys. Not stay in the hotel room.” Phoenix sighed. 

“He KNOWS that’s what I meant.” Cyclops snapped.

“But that’s what you SAID. He’ll always find the loopholes, honey.” Phoenix soothed.

“Let us not focus on what he has done…” Storm said calmly. “But rather… why?”

“She’s right.” Jordan nodded. “What would make him do something like this?”

“Because he’s Gambit?” Shadowcat drawled.

“No…” Cyclops said. “If he took the jet, it was with certain purpose in mind. A destination he wanted to get to… FAST.”

Jean’s eyes widened. “He knows where they are.”

“He knows?!” Blurted General Clancy. “Why wouldn’t he tell us?!”

“Because,” Cyclops groaned. “I already told him he couldn’t be involved in the rescue because of his personal connection!!!”

“What personal connection?” Assistant Director Halloway asked. Cyclops paused, not knowing if he should reveal that Remy was more than friends with Spencer… And with Logan…

“Gambit was the victim of the UnSubs in Boston that led us all onto this path.” Jordan Todd suddenly supplied. “And he’s good friends with Dr. Reid. And with Wolverine.”

“As previously explained,” Storm interjected, “Gambit is a valued member of the X-Men, but he DOES let his emotions get the better of him. When there is a personal involvement, he cannot be trusted to follow orders and protocols.”

Cyclops sighed. “He was NOT happy when I told him I couldn’t let him be involved in this… My guess is that he convinced the boys to help him find the Agents and Wolverine his way. And he did it.”

“So,” General Clancy shrugged, “call him off, tell him to pass on his information and let us handle it. Congratulate him on a job well done, tell him he’s done his part.”

Cyclops let out a bark of derisive laughter. “Gambit won’t answer.”

“Just try.” General Clancy requested. Cyclops did.

The call went straight to voicemail.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The chaos had been terrifying for the team. But the quiet afterwards was gut wrenching. They could only sit, watch and listen as Spencer Reid, bound to a chair, curled in on himself and cried. Several yards away, lay Logan. A smeared blood trail led from his body to the door that their frantic captors had dragged him through, all shouting to be heard over one another, and over the team.

But now, a few minutes after the thugs had all left, Aaron Hotchner finally broke the silence.

“… Reid.” He called, his voice firm, commanding his agent’s attention. “What happened.”

For a long time, Spencer just sat and shivered, but finally he lifted his head slightly, took a steadying breath and said, “they wanted to send a message. Because they hadn’t heard anything from Washington… So… they shot him in the head.”

“We heard the shot. But what happened that set off all that chaos?” Hotch asked.

“It… ricocheted off of his skull and hit one of the men in the arm. They freaked out. Panicked. And they threw him on the floor and shot him again… in the back.” Spencer whimpered, wincing and looking at Logan, who lay pale and unresponsive on the floor. He could barely see the subtle shifting of his body as he continued to breathe, but continue to breathe he did. But it was clear that he didn’t have much time.

“… I didn’t save Remy,” Spencer murmured, “just to lose Logan…”

“Have faith, kiddo.” Rossi urged.

“Guess it doesn’t matter…” Reid mumbled then. “In twelve hours, they’re going to kill me.”

“No. They’re not.” Emily nearly barked. “No way, Reid. We won’t let them.”

“You know better than that, Spence.” JJ forced a laugh, shaking her head. “We’re all going to be okay.”

“… I know the odds better than any of you.” Reid told them, his voice hollow. “… But… thank you for trying.” And he lowered his head, indicating that he was done with their conversation.

Time passed as though bogged down in the thickest of mud…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	5. Chapter 5

Save for the hum of the engines, the BlackBird was quiet. Noah and Caleb piloted the jet, while Set, Adam and Michael watched Remy. The man was leaned back in his seat, staring off into space, jiggling a leg and shuffling his cards. He also had a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, taking advantage of not having any of the other X-Men there to bark at him for smoking on the jet. But to say that he was actually smoking it was probably a bit too much. It just hung there, a long column of ash built up on the end of it, as Remy seemed to have forgotten that it was there.

“... Uh…. Gambit?” Seth asked hesitantly, only to watch as the ash finally dropped, falling to pieces on the front of Remy’s coat. “... oh.” Seth mumbled and drooped, sighing as he accepted that he had spoken up too late. Not that it had achieved his desired reaction, anyway…. Remy still sat there, staring off into space and completely still, save for the jiggling leg and shuffling hands.

It took Noah’s deep voice to bring the Cajun out of his reverie, “Closing in on target.”

Gambit blinked and shook himself slightly, looking down and cursing; he stood, pocketing his cards and brushing the ash from his jacket, taking a deep drag from his cigarette before removing it from his mouth and exhaling as he headed up to look out the front window of the jet.

“ETA?” He asked.

Noah checked his instruments and responded “ten minutes. I’m putting us into stealth mode so we can go in soft.”

“Tres bien,” Remy nodded.

“Orders?”

The question surprised Remy. It took him a moment to realize that Michael’s inquiry had been directed at him. He blinked again and turned, looking at TigersEye, Tsunami and BioHazard. All three were suited up, ready for action, and looking to him expectantly. He took another drag at his cigarette, then gave it a little charge and tossed it aside. Only Caleb and Noah blinked, glancing back as neither of them had seen the charge and toss, but both calmly turned their focus right back on their instruments, well used to Remy’s behaviors.

Remy thought for a moment, and then said “covert approach. Land us far enough away t’ avoid notice, but close enough dat Spirit Walker can get it airborne an’ move in fo’ extraction immediately.”

Caleb glanced up. “Do you want me to stay present in the jet, or project and go with you?”

Remy glanced at him. “Dat gon’ depend on what y’ find, homme. Set ‘er down, den y’ goin’ in Astral. Reconnaissance. Need t’ know numbers. Who be where…. security. De condition of de agents…. an’ Helios an’ Wolverine…”

“Yessir.” Caleb responded as he and Noah brought the jet in for a soft landing in a clearing in the woods. Once everything set into standby mode, everyone turned and watched Caleb lean back in his seat with sigh. He sat there for a moment, and his liquid silver eyes seemed to swirl a bit, before going still as glass and appearing slightly luminous.

Spirit Walker looked out the front window of the jet, then turned and looked down at his body in the pilot’s chair, and his companions staring at his body. Then he looked down at the floor, before his spirit sank through it to alight upon the grass beneath the belly of the great metal beast. Then he turned and darted off into the woods, a silent ghost. 

He passed a small herd of deer. The old stag, grazing with his harem, lifted his head and perked his ears, scanning his surroundings for the presence that he felt, but as it didn’t feel malicious or predatory and was already moving away, he flicked his tail and returned to his grazing.

A rabbit that was not so trusting sat up on its haunches, ears up, then huddled down in fear before vanishing into the brush, not taking chances with the invisible presence. Spirit Walker paid them no mind. He reached the tree line and cast his eyes over the old decrepit building. It appeared to be an old National Park Ranger Station. Not a visitor’s station, but perhaps a supply and maintenance management station. Whatever it had been, it had been decommissioned and left to the encroaching forest long ago. 

Spirit Walker headed straight for it. He could have walked through the wall, but the others would not use that as an entry point. And so he circled the perimeter, taking note of every potential entry and exit points, as he had been trained to do. He spoke them aloud…. not his Astral Form, but physically back on the jet, and Gambit and the other boys listened closely, Gambit skillfully translating Spirit Walker’s words into a startlingly accurate scaled drawing of the building. Five running strides…. twenty feet. Fifteen paces…. twenty five feet…. and once he had provided enough information to have the exterior mapped out, Spirit Walker went in.

Inside he repeated the process. He spoke the approximate dimensions through his physical body for the Master Thief to draw out, ensuring that his map was as accurate as possible. There was no active security system that he could see. No guards, either; the men who were hiding out here seemed to be very confident that they would not be found…

When Spirit Walker finally located the men, this was only confirmed. They were not concerned at all. Several of them were sleeping. A few were chatting over a few beers, one was watching “Independence Day” on an old VHS television while another was flipping through a nude magazine from the early nineties. Dan Buchanan himself was furiously scribbling on paper, frequently pausing, inspecting, the frowning and scribbling things out before re-writing them again as he worked on his next message for the next broadcast.

Spirit Walker turned and moved on, walking through the wall and continuing his search for the hostages. It didn't take long to find them; they were across the hall and through the next door, into what appeared to be an old storage garage, where the Park rangers previously had stored vehicles and other heavy machinery.

As soon as the words “I found them” passed Spirit Walker’s lips, Gambit’s head snapped up. “Wolverine is down. He’s alive but he doesn’t look good. He’s ashen. He doesn’t have much time. The others all look fine.”

Gambit nodded. “Can Helios sense y’?”

“Not with that collar on.”

Gambit thought a few moments. “Entry points?”

“... There’s an old skylight. Half of the glass is broken.”

“Dat be perfect. Alright. Do y’ t’ing an’ deactivate dat collar on Wolvie…. get dat healin’ goin’. We comin’ in. Y’ git back t’ y’ body an’ be ready fo’ extraction.”

“Yessir,” Spirit Walker confirmed, and Gambit was on his feet, heading for the ramp of the Bird, the boys on his heels. 

They sprinted through the forest, Gambit and TigersEye moving silently across the ground, and Tsunami in near silence; Gravity and BioHazard flew to avoid making any sound. They only hesitated for a moment at the treeline. Gambit looked around, nodded and darted into the open, the boys on his heels. He raised a hand and BioHazard caught hold, lifting him into the air and up onto the roof; Gravity joined them a split second later with TigersEye and Tsunami, and then the five of them were creeping along the room, towards the skylight that Remy had identified as the proper one through his memory of the sketched out map…

Remy leaned over and peered down through the skylight where the glass had broken away, as the glass that remained was too grimy to see through. Sure enough, the agents were all there and unharmed, but he could feel Spencer's distress over Logan. 

Logan…

Logan was lying face down in a pool of blood, quiet and still. But then the door opened and a few of the men walked into the room, one heading over to Logan and kicking him, making Remy growl.

“Well?” One called, and the kicker snorted, responding “This one just won’t die.”

“He will.” Responded the first.

“Let’s just cut his throat and be done with it.”

Remy felt the spike of fear shoot through Spencer. 

“Which agent are we gonna kill, if they don’t meet our demands?” Asked another as one man stood over Logan, twirling a knife in his fingers; he looked like he enjoyed the idea of being a man who was good with a blade, but to Remy’s trained eye, he was sloppy at best.

“I say this one.”

Remy turned his gaze to the man who was circling Hotch. “Let their boss go first.”

“That would be me.” Strauss spoke up, and several eyes turned. “He’s the Unit Chief, I’m Section Chief. I’m his boss.”

“Erin…” Rossi warned. 

“So you’re both the boss. Who cares? Odds are, you’re BOTH gonna die.” Chuckled the man still standing over Logan. “But hey…. ladies first, and all that. But I think I’m gutting this one now…”

And Remy decided that he had waited long enough.

“Stay,” he hissed, and then jumped.

Shouts went up as the remaining glass and rotting wood of the frame crashed in and down to the floor, accompanied by a lithe figure in a trench coat wielding a bo staff. The BAU and their Section Chief watched as the man flung some objects, glowing a bright fuschia, which exploded on impact, sending three of the man that had come in to the floor, and then the attacking newcomer flew at the man standing over Logan with a knife.

“Big mistake, mec.” Came the snarl, and with a few viciously precise strikes, the knife was clattering away and the man was on the floor by Logan. The mutant with the bo staff knelt over Logan for a moment, and then tossed the collar away.

Morgan was blinking, the gears in his head turning, and he looked at Reid. He didn’t have to ask. Spencer’s obvious joy and relief spoke enough.

“... Gambit!” Spencer exclaimed, and the man straightened up, turning and letting a roguish grin overtake handsome features as his eyes gleamed.

“Bonsoir, Helios. Be Gambit’s turn t’ play hero, oui?”

“Logan…?”

“Wolverine be fine in a few minutes. He already healin’. Spirit Walker was in a few minutes ago, an’ he shut dat collar off.”

“... You brought the boys?!”

“Mais oui.” Remy confirmed, then whirled when the door slammed open and the remaining men poured in, having been drawn by the sounds of the skylight coming down. “Ah! Welcome to de party, monssieurs!”

“A mutant! Kill him!” Buchannon howled, and Gambit spun his staff and took up a fighting stance with a grin.

“Well den…. Laissez les bon temps roules!”

And the men charged at him.

“BONZAI!!!!” Came the delighted crow, and TigersEye dropped from the skylight, taking two of the men to the floor, rolling and coming up to send another flying with a vicious uppercut punch. Three others howled, windmilling arms and legs as they floated up off of the floor, until they found themselves eye level with Gravity, who just grinned at them and held them up by the ceiling, thirty feet overhead. 

“So,” he asked, “who wants down first?” And one man dropped with yelp and slammed into the floor; he was out like a light and the other two started begging for mercy.

Pipes overhead began to groan, and then they burst. Tsunami waved his hands around, gathering some of the water into a razor thin disc, which he then began to spin, faster and faster, and then he moved behind Spencer. 

“Don't move, Helios. I can cut through stone with this, I don’t wanna cut you.” And he moved the spinning water blade close and sliced the ropes on Spencer’s wrists, before moving on and working on Rossi’s. As he freed the agents, BioHazard had backed two opponents into the corner, radiating hot nuclear energy that was too much for them to approach. As he held them at bay with his mere presence, he was sending a plume of rippling energy at another man, making him stumble back with a howl of pain, his skin blistering at the touch of hot glowing nuclear radiation. He dropped his gun and fell to his knees on the floor, curling up and cradling his blistered arms to his chest. BioHazard winced, looking as though he wanted to apologize, but he refrained and kept his focus.

The agents were moving into the fray now; Hotch wasted no time in surging forward as soon as he was free and throwing a roundhouse punch into a startled Dan Buchannon’s face, snarling “don’t you ever threaten my team again you backstabbing bigot…” and Buchannon went down hard.

Rossi was herding Strauss and Garica back against the wall, and kept himself between them and the fight, while Emily ran to Logan, dropping the man that Remy had taken down in his entrance through the skylight; he had been coming to and had gone for the knife again. 

All of the agents were free now, JJ and Morgan furiously attacking, and Tsunami was rounding up a duo of men in a wall of water, which was closing in on them tighter and tighter, until they were back to back and unable to move.

And then, save for the sound of the churning water and pained moans, it was quiet. Several of the man sat on the ground, hands up in surrender, surrounded as they were by Gambit, BioHazard, TigersEye and Gravity, and with a bit of prodding, Tsunami guided his captured pair over to join them.

“... how many cuffs do we have?” Morgan asked with a smirk, counting how many men they would need to arrest.

“Not enough.” Emily mused, placing her hands on her hips as JJ dragged over her battered opponent and shoved him down with the others; the man rolled back and forth, cradling his genitals and whining in pain.

“HOTCH!” Spencer shouted in alarm. “LOOKOUT!!!”

Hotch whirled, eyes widening as he faced down the gun that Buchannon had just pulled. Buchannon raised it, even as a roar and a metallic ring was heard, and then he fired--

And everyone stood gaping at Logan, who was doubled over in front of Hotch. Slowly, the man straightened, raising his claws, and Buchannon watched in horror as the hole on the mutant’s chest closed up right before his eyes.

“.... Now I’m pissed.” Logan stated calmly, and then lunged--

\--only to bounce off of a shield of light.

“DAMMIT!”

“No killing.” Spencer commanded. “We’re taking him in.”

“You gotta be fuckin--”

“You are NOT going to undo all the work that everyone has done by killing this man!” Spencer snapped, and glared. All was silent for a moment as the staring contest raged on, but finally, Logan let out a breath and straightened from his crouch, his claws sliding back into his arms.

“... Fine.” He grunted, and sent a glare at Buchannon. 

“Is this all of them?” Morgan asked.

“Get this collar off of me and I’ll find out.” Spencer stated calmly. Remy stepped sideways, sliding through the gap between Hotch and Morgan, lock pick already in hand. 

“Turn y’ head, Nightlight,” he said, and Spencer did so. A few soft clicks, and the collar fell away. And immediately, Remy, Spencer and Logan were flooded with one another’s thoughts and feelings. Then, Spencer turned and stared at Remy in horror.

“This rescue wasn’t AUTHORIZED?!?” He blurted, and all eyes turned to Remy. “You didn’t share our location with the Bureau, OR the X-Men, and you STOLE THE JET?!?”

“Oh. Ahh…. About dat…”. Remy laughed, sheepishly.

“Christ, Cajun…” Logan chuckled, shaking his head.

“Do you know what you may have done?!” Spencer gasped. “You may have jeopardized EVERYTHING!”

“Now how de hell did Gambit do dat?!” Remy demanded to know, looking indignant at the suggestion. Spencer gestured wildly, opening and closing his mouth a few times before letting his hands drop and shooting Hotch a helpless look.

But before Hotch could say anything, Remy spoke up. “De X-Men an’ de Bureau wasn’t gettin’ any closer, Spencer. Wasn’t gonna wait on dem, me. Not when Gambit got other sources. But de sources ain’t ones dat de Bureau can use, yeah?”

“Such as?” Hotch demanded to know.

“Nuh-uh.” Remy argued, shaking his head. “I need t’ protect m’ people, an’ I gon’ protect YOU folk wit’ plausible deniability. Gambit got sources dat ain’t on de right side o’ de law. Was usin’ dem when we found y’. Spirit Walker found y’ location.”

“Why didn’t you pass the location on to the FBI?” Strauss asked.

“How long would it take t’ get out here, hehn?” Remy asked. “Y’all gotta go t’rough protocols an’ shit, an’ transportation wasn’t gon’ be as fast. Non. Admit it. Another hour an’ Logan woulda died. An’ willin’ ta bet it woulda taken longer fo’ de Bureau t’ get here, me. Non. Gambit did what he had ta do t’ get ALL o’ you out alive. Ain't apologizin’ fo dat, me. I ain’t in de Bureau, an’ technically, de boys ain’t, neither! Dey ain’t taken de Oath! We moved in as X-Men. De X-Men ain’t bound t’ workin’ wit’ de FBI, neither. We still independent. We co-operate when needed, but here, co-operation was gon’ be mo’ a hindrance den a help. Dis was a citizen’s arrest, really.”

Everyone stared at him, and then looked around at each other. Strauss looked at Hotch, and then shrugged. “I think we can sell it, don’t you?” And her lips quirked up in a smirk.

“After everything else we’ve pulled off in the last few weeks,” Rossi drawled, “this should be a walk in the park.” The others chuckled, and Spencer turned and gave Remy a look.

“I’m still not condoning what you did.”

“Pfft! Dis Unit Chief t’ing goin t’ yo’ head already…“ Remy scoffed, and the other laughed.

“... So.” Emily drawled, smirking. “This is Remy.”

“Bonsoir, mademoiselle,” Remy immediately crooned taking her hand kissing it with a sweeping bow.

“Yes,” Spencer confirmed, looking amused. “This smooth talker is Remy.”

“Mais oui…. X-Man, mutant, an’ all around heartthrob.”

“And a cocky, arrogant pup who ain’t nearly as good with the ladies a he likes ta think.” Logan chuckled.

“Charmin’ enough t’ tame de big, bad Wolverine…”. Remy chuckled, throwing him a wink. Logan glared as Remy chuckled.

“You forgot thief,” Michael added.

“Dey don’t need t’ know all dat.” Remy snorted.

“Alright,” Hotch called, taking control. “Reid, scan the area, make sure we haven't missed any of the perps, and then let’s get the hell out of here.”

"Yes SIR!" Spencer nodded, more than ready to do just that.


	6. Chapter 6

\-------------------------------

The media was outside of the J. Edgar Hoover building in force. It had been hours since the disastrous video had been live streamed on Facebook, and they wanted answers. The FBI was providing none. Assistant Director Nancy Halloway sat at her desk in her office, elbows braced on the wooden surface, face buried in her hands.

“Ma’am…” Nancy raised her eyes and looked at the little brunette SSA Jordan Todd, who was looking more in control than Nancy herself was feeling at the moment. “We can’t hold our silence for much longer. We’re going to HAVE to issue a statement, at least to the country.”

“… Agent Todd…?”

“Ma’am?”

“I don’t know how you deal with those wolves.” Nancy gave her a tired smile. “You show no fear, and I’m sitting here nauseous at the idea of facing them.” She leaned back and regarded the woman. “We are so damned lucky to have you.”

Jordan flushed a bit and lowered her eyes, ducking her head in modest embarrassment even as a please smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, ma’am. My time with the BAU was beneficial. But if I may be so bold… the amateur profiler in me is noting that you are trying to change the subject.”

Nancy’s smile vanished, and she glared. “… Now I remember why I don’t like working with profilers.” She stared off into space for a moment, then turned and looked at her most unusual guests; the X-Men. “Alright… I’m desperate here. Is there something… ANY thing… that you have at your disposal that could POSSIBLY help?”

They were silent…. 

Phoenix stared at her husband for a few moments, and then let out a frustrated sound, “Cyclops…”

“No,” he responded.

“Honey, we--”

“I said no.”

“Cerebro can--”

“Cerebro is NOT something to be shared at this time. Besides, Gambit and Helios both are shielded from it.”

“But the boys are not,” White Queen pointed out.

“The lives of eight agents, two X-Men and five promising young mutants are on the line here, sir,” Jordan reminded gently. 

“... What is Cerebro?” AD Halloway asked.

Cyclops folded his arms and glared at the floor.

“... A technology we developed.” Phoenix explained. “With it, a powerful telepath can track down other mutants. It is a technology that can only be used by a handful of people on this planet, and it is a technology that will not be shared. And will not be mentioned again.. Ever. If I feel that you may reveal the existence of this technology to anyone -ANYONE- I will erase the knowledge of its existence from your mind without hesitation.”

AD Halloway looked shocked, but nodded. “Understood, ma’am. Can you use it to locate them?”

Phoenix opened her mouth, but her reply died before she could even breathe it into life. White Queen lifted her head, her pupils dilating, and then she said, “we don’t have to. They’re back.” And as one, she and Phoenix turned and hurried for the door, the other X-Men on their heels. After a moment, Halloway, Gen. Clancy and Jordan Todd chased after them.

They heard the roar of the engines as they hurried across the lobby of the J. Edgar Hoover building, and when they burst out the doors, the media paid no attention; The Blackbird was overhead, rotating to set down on the street.

“That swamp rat,” huffed Rogue. “Always with the dramatic entrances…”

To say that the press was excited was an understatement. As the agents and X-Men approached the jet, they heard several versions of “Brad, you can see behind me right now, that a mysterious aircraft has just set down on the street in front of the J. Edgar Hoover building, and the X-men have just come out to meet it with the Assistant Director!”

The bird touched down, and after a moment, the ramp lowered. And a few seconds later, Erin Straus walked down the ramp, followed by Garcia. Strauss immediately smiled and headed for AD Nancy Halloway.

“Erin…”

“Good evening, Nancy,” Strauss greeted, and then she turned back to the jet. The media cameras zoomed in on the ramp of the jet as Morgan appeared, dragging one of the prisoners. And behind him, each with their own charge, came Noah, Emily, Caleb, JJ, Adam, Rossi, Seth, Logan, and Michael. And then finally, Unit Chiefs Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid, on either side of Dan Buchannon.

Agents were swarming out of the building now, taking custody of the men.

“Agent Hotchner,” Nancy greeted, as Gen. Clancy looked over the prisoners in delight.

“What happened?” He asked.

Erin Strauss raised her chin and answered, “Dr. Reid’s new team proved themselves to be very capable young men. Their rescue operation was smooth and professional. Dr. Reid has chosen his team well.”

The press zoomed in, getting as much footage as they could as the young mutants handing over their prisoners, smiling and shaking hands with some of the agents who took their prisoners from them. And then, in quiet discipline, they lined up to face AD Halloway with the BAU.

“... I hope you’re proud of yourselves.” Cyclops drawled in a disapproving tone.

“Yes SIR!” Noah blurted with a grin, startling Cyclops.

“They should be damned proud of themselves.” Logan rumbled.

“... Where is Gambit?” Cyclops demanded to know.

“He’s on board. The cameras.” Spencer responded, gesturing towards the media.

Cyclops only nodded.

“Shall we go in and begin the debreifings?” Halloway asked.

“Ma’am, we need to address the press,” Jordan reminded her. “But I will buy us some time.” And with a smile and nod to JJ, Jordan approached the press, who clamored in excitement, then quieted down and focused when she stopped and stood, waiting.

“The FBI has no official statement at this time. We would appreciate your patience and will try to be ready to address the situation with you shortly, once we ensure that our own information is complete and accurate. Thank you.” And she turned and followed everyone else inside.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The debriefings were not done immediately. As protocol dictated, all of the agents involved in the kidnapping and hostage situation had to undergo a medical evaluation. It was nearly midnight before they were all released, and even then, the Bureau wasn’t willing to give them until morning for their debriefings. Those were long and near painful for everyone involved. There was also the issue that Gambit refused to come in for it. When Scott went to the jet to drag him in if he had to, he found the jet to be empty; Gambit had managed to weasel his way out, without anyone seeing him…. including the press. And, of course, he wouldn’t answer his phone.

It was nearly six AM by the time everything had wrapped up, and everyone was sent home for some rest. But the next morning, they got the green light to proceed. And the boys found themselves on the Georgetown Campus, preparing to meet with the President and the Deans and the Heads of Departments, and finally, to meet with their new Academic Advisors to get registered for their classes.

Most of the Heads and Deans were surprisingly opened, and some seemed genuinely excited (the Head of Computer Sciences looked positively giddy when Caleb explained his mutation to the man). Only a couple looked less than pleased, but fortune was smiling upon them; those that seemed to be harboring mutant prejudice were not of the schools that the boys were planning on focusing for their Majors.

The day closed with an impromptu dinner to celebrate the boys beginning the Spring Semester in just a few weeks, once the Christmas and New Year Holidays were over. The next few days was finding lodging, and in the end, Tony Stark made a surprise appearance and paid for a townhouse in DC, when he heard that the Bureau Budget Committees were balking at the cost.

Gambit was MIA for the entire week, not answering calls from Scott, though he would respond to Spencer or Logan with very… non-specific answers via text message. It was clear that he was making sure he wouldn’t end up being brought in for the Bureau to interview him.

He finally showed up again six days after the unauthorized rescue mission, lounging on Spencer’s sofa when he got home for the day. Spencer gave him a look, taking off his scarf. Logan didn’t even blink, just heading into the kitchen for a beer.

“Don’t like y’ stayin’ here no more, me,” Remy announced, cutting off Spencer, who had opened his mouth to speak.

“... What?” Spencer asked, blinking in surprise. 

“Dey know where y’ live. God knows who Dey mighta given dat info to…. And dis place ain’t got security. Don’t like it.”

“... Okay?” Spencer responded slowly. 

“Y’ movin.”

“What?!”

“Said y’ movin, me.”

“Why?”

“Cuz y’ ain’t safe here, and dis Cajun ain’t gonna accept dat.”

Spencer opened his mouth to argue, but Logan beat him to the punch with a gruff, “I agree with Gumbo.”

“You can’t be serious!” Spencer sputtered. “I can’t just…. just break my lease!”

“Like hell y’ can’t!” Remy shot back, sitting up and then rising to his feet in a fluid motion. “Been lookin’ ‘round de area…. t’ink I found a couple places dat…. well, ain’t suitable yet, but I can make ‘em suitable.”

“Remy LeBeau, what are you talking about?” Spencer asked through a dry throat as Remy held up some papers, and Logan accepted them, leafing through them.

“.... No,” The feral mumbled, discarding one on the coffee table. Spencer glanced down; it was a pamphlet for a house on the market.

“You can’t be serious…” Spencer repeated, though his tone was a weak, distant thing this time.

“‘Course I am,” Remy declared. “‘Bout time y’d got outta dis apartment an’ into a decent home. Dese be closer t’ y’ job, good neighborhoods, larger lots so y’ got privacy, an’ I can install proper security—“

“I am not just…. buying a house!”

“‘Course not, Remy buyin’ de house,” Remy answered, watching Logan discard another of the papers. “Dis way, we can also visit mo’ often.”

Spencer slowly sat down in his arm chair, still gaping at Remy. “I have a lease—“

“Y’ was abducted from y’ apartment, which was broken into. If Dey ain’t willin’ t’ let y’ outta de lease, dey gonna hear from m’ lawyer.”

“YOUR Lawyer?!”

“Alrigh’, Papa’s lawyer dat I borrow on occasion,” Remy amended, and Spencer flopped back in the chair, running his hand over his face.

“Nope.” Logan stated, tossing another paper aside, and Remy smirked.

“You’re actually on board with it!”

“Yep.”

“Uhg…” Spencer groaned, and Logan smirked.

“Coupla’ dose be close t’ de boys, too.” Remy added. “Prefer dat fo’ you, AN’ fo’ dem.” 

Spencer sighed as the two men before him then leaned in and looked over the papers together, which Logan began to lay out on the coffee table to look over them all at once. There were nine of them, since he had tossed aside three.

“Git over here and take a look, pup,” Logan commanded, and with a groan, Spencer heaved himself up and trudged over, dropping onto the sofa between them.

“... some of these are huge!” He squeaked, eyes widening.

“Dey all got a fireplace,” Remy stated, “an’ a two car garage.”

“That looks like three,” Spencer muttered, glaring at one of the papers.

“Oui, dat’s a t’ree car garage. Your uh…. car…”

“Leave my car alone.”

“Logan’s Jeep, an’ Remy an’ Logan’s bikes. Like dat one, me. Front of de house be open an’ pleasant, can see de whole t’ing from de street, but de back got a lotta trees fo’ privacy, an’ can be fenced in. Needs a bit of work, but nuthin’ too much…. basement ain’t finished...”

“Are we going to talk about last week?” Spencer asked, trying to change the subject.

“Nope.” Remy answered to his chagrin, and continued with “de garage ain’t visible from de street, neither. So, long as we don’t mind a bit o’ extra work, really like dis one, me. Now, dis one has a front gate into a courtyard where de front door is.”

“Good fer an ambush,” Logan rumbled, and Remy frowned and “hmm”ed, and then tossed that paper aside. Spencer let his face fall into his hands.

“Dis one got a pool, an’ a pool house!” Remy exclaimed.

“Somehow, I don’t see Spencer sunnin’ himself by the pool, Rems,” Logan chuckled, and Remy grinned. “That pool house would never be used. Waste of space. And money.”

“Oui…” Remy nodded, pushing the paper into the discard pile, then pointed at another. “Now, dis one be in a gated community…. a Senator lives dere…”

“Naw… wanna stay away from that.”

“Oui, dat was my drawback too…”. Remy nodded, discarding it. “Dis one already got solar panels on de roof…”

“Is it on a flood plain?” Logan asked.

“Hehn?”

“Says flood insurance is required…”

“Oh…” Remy grumbled, and discarded that one too.

“I can’t believe this…” Spencer groaning, leaning back and covering his face with his hands.

“I can make a coupla calls, set up viewin’s fo’ dese six dis weekend…” Remy said. “Want Morgan t’ come along, since he got an eye fo’ houses.”

“I can’t BELIEVE this!” Spencer howled.

“Hush.” Logan responded.

“What if I want to stay here?!”

“Den y’ suicidal an’ I’m gonna have a word wit’ y’ boss.”

Logan chuckled at Spencer’s frustrated look.

“Listen Spencer… Remy’s already given ya a few pros ta you movin into a house…. if yer so against it, give us a con.”

Spencer stared at him, mouth flapping as he sputtered, turning red as he was unable to think of something on the top of his head aside from “I’ll have to MOVE!!!”

His companions only chuckled.

“Think about it…. a bedroom big enough fer a California king…” Logan suggested with a wink.

“A few extra rooms fo’ a study an’ a library, all y’ own…” Remy crooned in a tantalizing tone.

“No obnoxious neighbors doin’ that,” Logan announced at the sudden loud thud from Spencer’s upstairs neighbor.

“No dealin’ wit’ obnoxious old lady neighbors dat complain t’ de leasing office ‘bout y’ comin’ an’ goin’ at all hours fo’ work…”

Spencer scowled at that on, glaring at the far wall, through which cranky Ms. Cavenaugh resided…. with her—

“No obnoxious Pomeranians shitting on yer doorstep and yappin’ their heads off at the same ridiculous hours that tend ta piss her off when yer comin’ an’ goin’...”

Spencer felt a wry grin overtaking his face at that one, and his partners both chuckled.

“It’s settled, mon soleil.” Remy soothed, taking his hand. “Y’ movin’. Oui?”

“... Oui.” Spencer nodded, smiling and accepting the happy peck on the lips from Remy. 

“Make those calls, Rems.” Logan said with a grin. And that Saturday found Spencer standing on the curb looking up at a house with Remy and Logan on one side, and Morgan and Ororo on the other.

“Shame on you for not telling me,” Ororo said, giving Remy a scolding look, softened by her smile. Remy looked disgruntled.

“How’d y’ find out, anyway?”

“I was with Derek when he got your call.”

THAT caught Remy’s attention, and everyone could see his protective instincts immediately waking up.

“Whaddya mean y’ was wit’ Derek…? An’ since when is he DEREK?!”

“Since he took me to lunch last week.” Ororo stated calmly, making a show of focusing on the aesthetics of the house, and only absently paying attention to Remy. Logan was looking terribly amused, and Spencer was giving Morgan a sideways look; Morgan returned it with a wink.

“... Took y’ t’ lunch? Like…. like a date?!”

“Ah, this must be your Realtor, Remy.” Ororo announced, and Remy let out a frustrated huff as the car pulled up and the engine shut off. A moment later and a young man got out, briefcase in hand. He checked his tie and then hurried over, grinning and offering his hand as Remy went to meet him. 

“Mr. LeBeau?”

“Oui,” Remy answered, accepting his hand, and then man took it in a firm grip and introduced himself as “Byron Mason. Pleased to meet you. And…. you’re Dr. Spencer Reid.” When Reid looked confused, he added, “I’ve seen you on the news.”

“... So…. you know I’m a mutant.”

“Yessir,” the realtor nodded.

“Is this neighborhood…. tolerant?” Morgan asked then, frowning.

“I honestly couldn’t say, Agent.” Byron admitted.

“Agent?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t recall your name, but I remember seeing you on the news, too. A press conference outside of the Pentagon?”

“I see. Agent Morgan.” Morgan replied, shaking his hand. “So… we don’t know how…. this neighborhood leans?”

“It’s got a very broad variety of people. A neighborhood in transition, really. Older couples of retirement age with grown children who no longer live here…. they’re beginning to move out and make room for young couples in the process of starting families. So…. wide demographic.” He drew some papers from his satchel and flipped through them. “Uhhh…. racial makeup is approximately sixty five percent white, fifteen percent black, seven percent Asian and the rest is a mix…”

“Any mutants?” Morgan asked.

“Known mutants…” Ororo amended.

“Uh…. well, I did sell a house to a couple…. I couldn’t say for sure, but I think the man is a mutant…”

“Oh?” Logan pressed.

“Well… I was using the bathroom in the house they were looking at and I heard him through the window out in the side yard…. He was saying that a tree out there wasn’t well and they would need to have to removed…. I peeked out and he had his eyes closed with his hand on the ground at the base of the tree. When he opened his eyes, they were green. But before that, and when I went outside a few minutes later, they were brown. I never said anything about it, and they never volunteered anything, so.. I just kept quiet and let it go.”

The others just nodded, considering this information. “They uh, they live not far, actually…. see that lot down there, on the corner?”

“Yeah,” Remy nodded, “looks like a community garden?”

“Yeah. They’re actually right next door to it. The garden was a huge selling point. See, the old owner of the house passed away…. it was a double lot, and the previous owner loved gardening…. it was kind of a community garden anyway, it belonged to her, but she let the neighborhood use it. When she passed, she willed the garden half of the lot to the neighborhood HOA.”

“That’s wonderful!” Ororo exclaimed, looking thrilled.

“Shall we look at the house?” Byron asked, and they all turned again. It was a blue-gray facade with white trim, and it seemed that whoever designed the house had been influenced by both Tudor and Victorian style. The driveway pulled up and seemed to cut through the house itself through an arched tunnel; the main body of the house was to the right, and it appeared that space enough for maybe a single room lay to the left.

While Byron headed for the front door, Reid and Logan wandered up the driveway and through the arch tunnel and out the other side. There they found a courtyard and parking area; straight ahead was the three car garage… the way it was set made Reid wonder if it had maybe once been a stable, a century ago. The house and the garagewere connected by a wide, open breezeway. The inner courtyard and parking area were lined with flower beds, that according to the pictures on the information sheet, would feature white hydrangeas come spring. For now, they were bare. The corner of the house facing the courtyard also had a larger bed and encroached upon the large area. 

Eagerly, the real estate agent led them back around to the front door, unlocking the SmartLock with an app on his phone, and opening the door for them, stepping aside with a flourish. Surrounded as she was by insistent gentlemen, Ororo stepped the house first, looking around. They were in an open foyer with a staircase before them. It was just to the left when they stepped in and a third of the way up it moved away from the front door, then cut a ninety degree corner and ran up the rest of the way to the second floor. Next to the bottom of the stairs to the left were two small steps down into another room. Spencer gravitated there immediately, ignoring the large open area to the right that was clearly the living room. The little room off to the left was dark but cozy, with token windows to the front yard, and to be back, looking over the courtyard, but the walls in between were lined with bookshelves, the one against the stairs broken by the placement of a fireplace.

“Dis’ would be y’ office,” Remy explained to Spencer, who already looked like he was in love and ready to buy on the spot. Morgan was chuckling, but moved over to the fireplace and got down on the floor pulling a flashlight from his hip and crawling in, shining it up. Byron looked surprised at this, but looked pleased when Morgan’s voice drifted back to them, “looks good! Could use a sweep. It’s wood burning, may wanna look into running in a gas line Pretty Boy.” And he crawled back out and stood, walking around the room and inspecting things for himself. 

“Ya like it,” Logan observed, looking at Spencer, pleased.

“It’s great!” Spencer nodded happily, eyes shining.

“Shall we see the rest?” Byron offered, and the group made their way out. They crossed the foyer and stepped into the living area, which was quite generous and featured a much larger fireplace than the library did. This was against the front wall, and flanked by windows. The floors were a dark hardwood that were a bit dusty, but looked to be in excellent condition over all. Where the stairs went up, there was a door into the wall, and upon opening it, Remy exclaimed “Found de basement, me!” And trotted down. Spencer blinked curiously as his footsteps were muffled by carpet, and he followed, flicking the lights on as he went, not quite as good with his eyes in the dark as Remy. The generously sized basement had been divided by a wall, and on the side they were currently in it was finished. Through the door on the other side, the other half remained unfinished, and seemed to have been used for storage. And while he didn’t voice anything, Spencer could tell Remy was already getting ideas for the basement.

Morgan trailed along behind them, checking out everything there was to check…. Back upstairs they found the powder room on the other side of the wall where the stairs were, and were looking straight down a hallway that stretched the length of the house, with windows looking out onto the courtyard and garages. The Dining room was on the other side of the hallway, with a wide open doorway into the living room on one side, and into the kitchen on the other. The hallway towards the end also had a doorway into the kitchen, just across from a door out onto the breezeway between the house and garage, and at the very end of the hall was a door into a small, but not cramped, laundry room. The kitchen was a good size with an island, and a breakfast nook looking out the window and into the back yard, which was a good size, featuring a flagstone patio coming off of the breezeway, lots of trees near the house, but with an open area beyond.

The group made their way back to the foyer and headed up the stairs then. There was a nice railing circling the general area of the foyer, with a narrow hallway sized walkway around the gap and heading off to an actual hall that was the area of the arch over the driveway. Curious, Reid wandered this way, noting the closets that lined the back side of the hall, and the front side with windows looking out onto the street. 

“It’s a guest suite!” Byron was saying, following after him. “Uh, this walkway was added later when a previous owner did some remodeling back in the eighties.” 

Reid opened the door into a bedroom with a spiral staircase in the corner. Peering down showed what could have been a sitting area, and a door into a private bathroom, according to Byron. Remy was thrirlled at this, talking about how his Papa could come visit and have his own space, and so could Ororo… Morgan and Ororo looked amused at that, as though both knew that Storm might not necessarily stay with Remy if she came to visit DC, considering how she and Morgan were bonding. They didn’t tell Remy this, however. At least not at the moment. 

At the other corner of the house over the living room were two smaller bedrooms, obviously intended for children, but still large enough to be guest rooms. One was on the front wall, with a little window on either side of the chimney, and one was on the side wall; they shared a bathroom between them, placed on the front corner of the house. A hallway then sent them into the Master Suite. It was generously sized, the doorway into the room then flanked with smaller doors on either side. The door to their left, in the direction of the courtyard area, was a large master bath that actually looked out on the courtyard, and to the right was a walk in closet placed somewhere over the dining room that shared it’s back wall with one of the small child/guest rooms. There was a small patio off of the Master bedroom that looked out over the back patio and the back yard.

“Designated smokin’ area!” Remy said happily.

“Absolutely not, it will waft back into the bedroom,” Spencer argued, glaring.

“It’s a lovely house,” Ororo said, smiling, and Morgan nodded, coming out of the Master Bath after poking around a bit. 

“The previous owners took good care of it,” he agreed, “and that patio in the back is great.”

“Are we… interested in making an offer?” Byron asked. “Or did we want to move on the next one?”

“Say we move on, me. Like dis alot, but wanna see other options.” Remy declared, and so they all trooped back to their cars.

They made their way to the next house, which was smaller, and in a slightly less wealthy neighborhood. Remy was displeased when he was looking over papers that Byron had given him, with HOA rules. The house was quaint and cozy, and Spencer found it to be inviting. At least, the bit that he saw. Only halfway through the tour, and phones started buzzing. He pulled his out, looked at it, and sighed.

“Duty calls,” Morgan confirmed, pocketing his own phone. “We gotta head into the BAU.”

Ororo made a soft sound of regret, and Logan let out a loud sigh.

“You guys look at the other houses.” Reid told them. “And we’ll talk about them later. Okay?”

“... Oui. Be safe.” Remy nodded. 

“Go on,” Ororo said with a smile, “I’m sure Remy and Logan would take me back to the hotel.” 

Morgan smiled back, and was silent for a moment before he glanced at Remy, who was glaring at him, and then just said “see you later. C’mon, Pretty Boy. Let’s grab our Go Bags and we’ll head straight to the jet.”

“Coffee?” Reid asked, following, and Morgan chuckled.

“Yeah, we can stop for coffee.”

“Excellent!” 

And they were gone. 

For a moment, the realtor and X-Men just stood there. It was Remy who broke the silence, turning and glaring at Ororo.

“... Alrigh’, no mo’ dodgin! Wha’s goin’ on wit’ you an’ Agent Morgan?!?”


End file.
